


Over Spilled Coffee

by idmakeitbehave



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Coffee Shops, First Meetings, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idmakeitbehave/pseuds/idmakeitbehave
Summary: You had just spent your last three dollars on a cup of coffee- your one solace from this exhaustion- only to have it be unceremoniously dumped all over you. Luckily, all is not lost.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 118





	Over Spilled Coffee

You were tired. More than that- you were exhausted. Couldn’t keep your eyes open, barely able to walk in a straight line, down to the bone exhausted. Finishing your dissertation was no joke, and at this point you had been awake for more than forty-eight hours. Just a few more days. You just needed to get through this. 

You were also broke. Being a student may have had its perks at times, but money was not one of them. The past few months had consisted of more microwave meals and ramen noodles than you cared to admit. You scrounged around in your bag, feeling around for any loose change. Just one cup of coffee. That’s all you needed. It felt like a lie even to yourself, but maybe it would help. You pulled your hand out of the bag triumphantly, counting the coins. Three dollars and fifty-seven cents. It wasn’t much, but it would buy you a cup of coffee from the shop on the corner. Admittedly, it might be the world’s shittiest cup of coffee, but beggars can’t be choosers.

You made your way down the street, rubbing your eyes blearily. You were surprised to find it was still light out- you had been sure it must be nighttime by now. Then you looked at your watch. 8:34am. It was morning. More than morning- it was the time normal people would be out, getting ready for their normal routines. You sighed, running your hand through your hair and trying to tug out the knots that had formed from the several times you had passed out on your desk, your head resting beside your laptop. Whatever. All you had to do was get this cup of coffee, your one solace, and you could hightail it out of there, back to the safety of your studio apartment.

The coffee shop was relatively busy, full of young professionals getting ready for the day. You leaned against the counter, not wanting to put in the effort to stand upright.

“Next!”

You blinked in surprise. You hadn’t even seen the person in front of you move, much less registered that it was your turn to order. Shuffling to the counter, you scanned the menu quickly, making sure that you could afford the coffee that you were about to order. The barista took your money, and you forced a smile that felt fake even to you. She gave you your change and you almost laughed as you pocketed the nickel. You were rich. 

You leaned against the back wall, waiting for the coffee to be ready. When they called your name, you moved faster than you had perhaps in days. The cup was warm beneath your hands and you sighed before taking a quick sip. The hot liquid was soothing, and not nearly as bad as you had anticipated given the meager price tag. 

You checked your watch again, determining that you deserved to take a little break and enjoy your drink. It obviously wasn’t doing you any good to operate under such sleep deprivation anyway. You found a table in the corner, plopping your messenger bag on the floor beside you before sitting down. Propping your head up on your elbow, you took another sip of the coffee, closing your eyes. 

Something suddenly knocked into you, sending your arm jerking, and as your eyes flew open you felt hot liquid running down your pants legs. The woman beside you apologized briskly before exiting the shop, in too much of a hurry to even pretend to care that she had just made you dump your entire coffee all over your lap. You stared at her receding figure for a split second before bursting into tears. It was ridiculous, you knew deep down, to be this upset over literally spilled coffee, but you couldn’t help it. You were soaked, you were exhausted, and you didn’t even have enough goddamn money to buy another cup. This was it. The tears were hot and heavy, and it felt like the pent up fatigue of the last few days had finally come flooding out. You heaved a ragged breath, aware of how absurd you looked. You should just get out of there, retreat back to your sad little apartment. 

You turned to grab your bag, and jumped when you looked back. Another coffee cup sat on the table, accompanied by a stack of napkins. You realized someone was holding the cup, although it took you longer than it should have to register it. Looking up through your tears, you saw a man smiling softly at you, his eyes bright.

“Here. Take this.” 

You blinked at him for a moment, wiping your face with one of the napkins. You studied the man for a second. He was handsome, notably so, and his face was kind. His hair had a soft curl to it, and a few strands stuck out at unruly angles. 

“Thank you?” You phrased it rather ineloquently like a question, not quite sure what to do. Who was this handsome stranger? And why was he giving you, someone who must be looking like a deranged lunatic, a coffee?

He seemed to sense what you weren’t asking. “You have the whole ‘I’m trying to finish my thesis and I just spent my last five dollars on this coffee and everything is going wrong’ look about you.”

You let out a laugh, finally taking the cup from his hands. “How do you know that?”

“I speak from experience.”

You tried to imagine this man where you were, running on little sleep, matted hair, on the verge of an emotional breakdown. It didn’t quite fit the man you were looking at right now, with his bright eyes and his buttoned cardigan, but you could almost picture it and you smiled at the thought. It was nice to know you weren’t alone. 

You motioned for him to sit, and you were pleasantly surprised when he did. “Thank you for taking pity on me. You’re very kind. Kinder than most people- definitely that lady who decided to ruin my entire life by dumping that coffee on me.”

The man laughed at your words, and the sound was so sweet. You looked up at him again, studying his hazel eyes and toothy grin. This wasn’t so bad, you thought. Maybe that rude woman had done you a favor after all. 

You held out your hand, smiling again as his hand gripped yours, the skin warm and soft beneath your fingers. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Spencer Reid.”


End file.
